


Smashing the Locks

by UnmovingGreatLibrary



Category: Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica
Genre: Brainwashing, Corruption, F/F, Gen, POV Second Person, Post-Rebellion Story, Present Tense, Rebellion Story Spoilers, Surreal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-15
Updated: 2014-11-15
Packaged: 2018-02-25 10:14:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2618165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnmovingGreatLibrary/pseuds/UnmovingGreatLibrary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As long as the new universe has existed, Sayaka has been the only agitator in it.</p><p>Now, Homura has found a solution that will leave them both happy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Smashing the Locks

You can't say when you first started hating Homura, and you could never pin down why. Seeing her in class was enough to leave you anxious and upset, and every time you saw her talking to Madoka, a little knot of anger settled in the pit of your stomach. There have been a few times when you couldn't hide it, and when Madoka asked why you were so mad at Homura, you couldn't even answer. You hate the dissecting way she always looks at you, and the way she's been eating up all of Madoka's time ever since she got back, and the air of smug certainty around her, but those are hollow reasons. You've always felt like your hate has deeper roots than that.

And then your memories started trickling back one by one until, like a dam, the mental barriers burst and you remembered everything. Now you know why you hate Homura Akemi: She's the one who stripped the Law of the Cycle of its heart and built a new universe to act as its cage.

You can still remember the triumphant look in her eyes as she ripped Madoka's soul in half, and you can never forgive her.

Part of you, some treacherous part that she probably planted there, still wants to. This new universe is nice, it whispers. You're a human again, everybody is alive, and why should you care if the Law of the Cycle winds down over time? You're not like Madoka; you can't bring yourself to care about every magical girl who could ever exist. But you know in your gut that what Homura did is the wrongest thing you've ever seen, and you couldn't live with yourself if you let it stand.

And now it seems like the entire universe is out to stop you. You've been fighting for half an hour, and now you can sense that you're nearing the end. Homura's apartment is mere blocks away. At the end of the alley, a dense wall of road signs pops up, improbably blockading your path. 'STOP. NO ENTRY. FORBIDDEN AREA.' You grin to yourself and tighten your grip on your sword. She's getting scared, huh?

You hurry forward, blasting through the barrier of signs with a single slash. Before the rubble even finishes clattering to the ground, you're already dashing across the street. Homura's not even trying to preserve the facade of normalcy now. The ground shudders, then splits open with a deafening crack. Cobblestones clatter down the side of the fissure as it spreads, and you can feel the ground itself trembling beneath your feet when you push off of it and leap into the air. A single massive bubble forms beneath you at the apex of your arc, and bouncing off of it gives you enough of a boost to reach the far end of the spreading abyss. You land with a bone-rattling impact that barely staggers your magical physiology, and don't even let it slow you down before you continue running.

On both sides of the street, the telephone poles split at their bases, sheared precisely by some invisible force. They topple over toward you, but compared to the blows of a witch, it's a clumsy, meaningless attack. You dance around one with disdainful ease, leap over another, land on a third and push off of it just before it cracks against the ground. By the time you land again, you're grinning. If this is the best Homura can do, you have this in the bag.

The last telephone pole splinters against the road, and you're already dozens of meters away. Rounding a corner, Homura's apartment comes into view. You're in the home stretch now, sprinting with victorious glee, Homura's door almost close enough to touch...

—and then it's not. You're in an endless, grassy field. You're standing, and all the signs of exertion from the past half-hour—your heart pounding in your ears, the sweat on your skin, even the sword in your hand—are all gone. And in front of you... is Homura. She's seated at a cafe table that's improbably sitting in the middle of the field, with a parasol overhead and an overflowing, unclean-looking violet drink in front of her. She doesn't even look up from leisurely stirring it with her straw to greet you. “Have a seat.”

The sudden shift of setting leaves you reeling and confused, but after a moment to recover, your anger surges up again. That confident tone, the way she doesn't act the least bit threatened... you're going to wipe that smug look off her face. A flick of your wrist makes a sword drop into your hand, and it takes all of your restraint to point it at her instead of hurling it at her face here and now. “I remember what you did,” you say, your voice trembling in outrage. “A-all of it. I'm here to fix this.”

“Hmh?” She looks up at you now, unconcerned, and takes a sip of her drink through her straw. You tense up to deliver another ultimatum, but pause when she leans away from her drink and raises her hands. “I told you to sit down, Sayaka Miki.” She claps her hands together, just firmly enough to make a sound, and—

—and you're sitting across the table from her, with your hands folded in your lap. Your sword is gone. In fact, so is your magical girl outfit. You're back in your school uniform, and your soul gem is back to being a delicate ring on your finger. For a few seconds, you sit in shock, struggling to absorb the change, then rise to standing and push away from the table with enough force to shake it. “D-do you think I'm kidding?! I'll do whatever it takes to fix Madoka!” You reach for your ring, and—

—another clap. You're sitting again, and this time, your soul gem is resting atop the table in front of her. Your muscles tense up as you instinctively prepare to tackle her across the table, but the tension fades as real worry sets in. She has your soul gem. You can't transform. Even when you _were_ transformed, you didn't accomplish much. Desperation claws at the back of your mind, but you need to think. It can't end this easily. You can't lose this.

Homura gives you an expression of tired annoyance across the table, and presses one fingertip to the very top of your soul gem. She idly rocks it in a circle on its base as she watches you. “Do you know how many times you've regained your memories, Sayaka Miki?”

The question is strange enough to make your frantic thoughts come to a pause. “H-huh? What do you mean?”

“This is the eighth time you've regained your memories of the Law of the Cycle.” She looks toward you now, and seeing the look of shock on your face, gives a satisfied smirk and resumes toying with your soul gem. “You didn't accomplish much the other seven times, either...”

You're left staring, wide-eyed and speechless. Seven times? Then that means... did she make you forget the other seven? Do you... do you even stand a chance? Did you ever? Your hands lower to your lap, and you grip the hem of your skirt until your knuckles turn white. You can't give up, but you can't ruin your chance by doing something reckless like trying to punch her, either. “So what happens now?”

“Now? Hmmm.” Homura's gaze settles on you, and her head tilts to the side, a sickening smile on her face. “Maybe if you agree to be a good girl and go home, I'll forget this ever happened.”

Is she freakin' _mocking_ you?! “L-like heck I will!” you shout, and catch yourself, remembering that you don't need to provoke her. “I-I'm not leaving until you fix this. I'll never forgive you for what you've done.”

“Yes, I know,” she says, and for the first time, you detect actual annoyance in her voice. “You've regained your memories seven times. On four of those times, you told Madoka and I had to alter her memories afterward, too. I'm getting tired of dealing with you...” She plucks your soul gem up by its tip, letting it dangle from two fingers and inspecting it.

You don't like the tone of her voice. You don't like anything about this situation, but there aren't going to be any second chances at this point. Her eyes are settled on your soul gem. This might be the last chance you get.

So you don't hesitate for long enough for her to notice. You leap forward, half-diving across the table and swiping one hand toward your soul gem. If you can just knock it out of her hand, maybe you can get to it first. Fight her, keep the pressure up, don't give her time for any more weird tricks. Her drink falls to the ground and the table pitches under your sudden weight. Your fingers close against the cool, smooth surface of your soul gem, her eyes shift contemptuously toward you as you jerk it away...

And then, it's all over.

One moment, you're wrestling your soul gem away from Homura in the field. The next, you're sitting in the classroom. The air is perfectly climate-controlled, but the school beyond the glass walls is dark and violet-tinged, fading into darkness mere meters away. Every desk is missing except for the one you're sitting in, in the exact middle of the room. You're still in your school uniform... and a single violet ribbon is wrapped around you, tying you firmly to the desk and tangling your wrists together.

As soon as you get your bearings, you start struggling against the restraints, but the delicate-looking ribbon is as firm as steel. You look around the room frantically, but it's empty except for you and the screen at the front of the class, and you can't see anybody beyond the windows. Help... might not be coming. “H-homura!” you shout at the ceiling, with your voice already unsteady with fear. “What are you doing?!”

“I already told you.” It sounds like she's mere inches from your ear, but there's nobody there. “You're an annoyance. You've tried to turn Madoka against me, and that's the one thing I can't allow. Not yet...” Her voice has a murmured, almost drunken cadence.

“I'm not going to give up th—...!”

Before you can even finish your sentence, a black-gloved hand slides out from behind you. It cups your chin, tugging you back against something warm, and the screen in front of you... changes. It's hard to say what actually happened to it; it looks like a mirror now, but rather than the classroom, it shows you standing in a hazy white emptiness, wearing your magical girl uniform, completely free of restraints. Homura is behind you, with her hand on your chin exactly like it is now... but she's in a black dress that looks like it's made of flowing feathers, with a pair of unnatural black-feathered wings extending from her back. “I'm a spirit of desire, after all.” In the mirror, Homura locks eyes with you, while her free hand strokes over your mirror-self's stomach. “Would you like me to tell you what you desire, Sayaka Miki?”

“S-stop that!” You lunge forward as far as the ribbons will let you, and her hand tugs you gently back. You still thrash, trying to shake it off, but with an almost infuriating patience, she pulls you back into place.

“Do you want to be recognized as the greatest magical girl to ever live? Fame? Respect? I can do all of those.” Her voice switches to a more teasing tone as she continues, “Or maybe it's love. Is it Kyosuke Kamijou?” Her reflection changes to Kyosuke's, with a challenging smirk that the real article would never wear, tugging the mirror-you back against himself. “Is it... Kyoko Sakura?” Her reflection changes again to Kyoko, still staring into your eyes as her fingers trace along the edge of your mirror-self's soul gem.

“S-stop it!” There's a heavy blush on your cheeks now, and nervous energy buzzing in your head. The images have a strange deja vu to them, like they were drawn directly from some half-remembered dream, and somehow you _know_ that she got them from your own thoughts. “All I want is to fix Madoka!”

“You're lying,” she says, as she shifts back to her own form. “You want all of these things, and I can give them to you.”

“I'm not trading Madoka for any of that stuff!”

“Then if I can't change your memories, I'll change your desires.” For the first time since the encounter started, she sounds angry, rather than merely annoyed.

“Huh? What are—?” It suddenly feels like there's a cold finger against your heart, pressed right _through_ your chest, and your whole body goes stiff in unnatural discomfort. Behind you, Homura leans in closer, until you can feel her breath on one ear. You want to struggle, to try breaking her nose with a backward smash from your head, but you're afraid to even move. There's this sensation, like somebody's fingers picking daintily through your brain... and suddenly, it's like the structure beneath your consciousness is ripped out. You can feel half-finished thoughts and inchoate emotions tumble away, lost forever, and your head goes fuzzily empty as your consciousness reasserts itself.

After the second that it takes you to recover, you're left with a feeling of expectant blankness, like walking into a room and forgetting why you went there in the first place. The tension has drained out of you, and—and what? It feels like there should be something else, but nothing offers itself. You're left feeling a bit lost and empty, but calm. When you realize that Homura is studying you in the mirror, you look to her uncertainly. “What did you do...?”

“I removed some unnecessary desires,” she says. Her gaze drifts back down, and only then do you realize that her finger is dipped into the mirror-you's soul gem. _Into_ it, up to the first knuckle. Slowly, she slides it out, and the coldness in your chest fades away. “Do you remember why you came here?”

“H-huh?” The weird display leaves you with a dozen questions, but you force your thoughts back on topic. You remember, of course. It's only been a few minutes. You'd wanted to punish her for making Madoka human again and breaking the Law of the Cycle. You can remember everything, from your simmering anger this morning to the impulsive second when you'd set out the door.

But... it feels so empty now. You can remember being angry, but only as a fading memory. It felt so _important_ then, but now... now it feels almost laughably meaningless. Logically, you know that you should be upset, but you just can't summon up any anger. It would be like getting upset over your favorite brand of potato chips or something. The only thing you feel is nauseous discomfort as you realize exactly what just happened, but even that is only a thin shadow of an emotion. “Y-you _did_ something to my brain...”

“I asked you a question.”

That chill in your chest returns, sharp and reprimanding, and you give a jolt of surprise before forcing yourself to answer. “I was angry at you about Madoka, I guess...?”

“Hmm. And are you still angry?” The growing smile on her face suggests that she already knows the answer.

“Not... not really,” you mumble, feeling like you've somehow failed, but unable to even care.

“Good. I'm tired of dealing with you,” Homura says, with an open disgust that makes it clear that she knows you won't protest. Her hand finally releases you, and in the mirror, the other Homura does the same. A simple gesture of mirror-Homura's hand makes your restraints suddenly go slack and droop toward the floor. Relieved, you raise your arms and start rubbing the stiffness out of them. Apparently you're free to go? Good. The whole experience has just left you tired and uncomfortable... as soon as you get home, you're going to take a long bath and maybe go spar with Kyoko to let off some frustration. You're halfway to standing before you realize that she's watching you with a thoughtful expression. “Or... maybe you could be useful to me.”

“Huh?”

Before you can raise much more of a reaction, her hands settle on your shoulders again. You struggle slightly, but you're more confused than outraged. Mirror-Homura dips her finger back into your soul gem...

And that chill tickles through your chest again. Your body stiffens up with a shuddering gasp, then the force drains out of your muscles. Homura's arms are the only thing preventing you from crumpling to the floor. You can't stop your head from hanging down limply, but manage to look up, watching as the mirror-you does the same thing... and Homura idly stirs her fingertip inside your soul gem, without taking her eyes off you for a second. “You were helping Madoka rescue magical girls before, right? That isn't necessary anymore,” she says, and her voice comes from everywhere at once. She's the universe itself, or inside your head, or maybe there isn't even a difference. “Now you can help me instead.”

“What do you... mean?” you barely manage to gasp out. Your body feels so far away, and you barely manage to move your weak muscles with remote control. Panic crests and fades in your head, flickering in and out of being as Homura rummages through your mind again.

She ignores you, and draws her fingers backward. In the mirror, your soul gem flickers and sort of drifts out to land in her palm, now fully transformed back into its gem form. She lifts it up in one hand to inspect it, and the other releases the mirror-you, who stays frozen in the same position, with her eyes glazed over. Somewhere in your jumbled thoughts, you wonder if that's what you look like right now. A smile grows on her face, and changes flow up your soul gem from her palm. The golden trim tarnishes to a pewter-y silver and grows out in hook-like protrusions, creeping across the surface to form a filigree. From its depths, a trickle of violet rises. It flows out and mingles with the blue of the gem itself, forming gauzy wisps.

You can _feel_ it. It's lust and self-acceptance and greed and love, bubbling up from your heart and oozing heavily through your veins. It's like somebody threw open all the doors in your mind, removed every barrier that's ever stopped you from doing what you want. Your embarrassment earlier at having Homura figure out that you're attracted to both Kyoko and Kyosuke feels so quaint that it's laughable.

She called it 'evil' before, but now you understand what it really is: it's freedom.

The rush of emotions leaves you panting, hundreds of sensations bubbling through your head and fading seconds later, so hard to keep track of. It's overwhelming. Overwhelming enough that, when the changes finish, your thoughts are so jumbled that you barely even notice.

The first thing to drag you back to reality is the slow realization that there's movement on the screen. You lift your drooping head, and after your eyes struggle to focus, the blurs resolve back into yourself and Homura. The mirror-you is no less changed. Her outfit is faded, a slightly darker, less vibrant color bordering on violet, and all of the white and gold has been replaced with black and silver. And... her soul gem is now in the shape of a stylized feather. You can spot a ribbon of violet color in it for just a moment before she tilts her head back, pressing against Homura and kissing at the underside of her chin needily.

Homura doesn't even acknowledge the gesture, but just keeps her eyes on you throughout it. “Better?”

“Yeah...” Your previous embarrassment is entirely gone, but you still study the image of yourself fawning over Homura with a slight blush on your cheeks. It feels... it feels right. Homura created this entire universe for all of you. A universe where you can have another chance to do whatever you desire with your life and take as long as you want to savor it. It's only natural to want to defend it. It's only natural to... appreciate her.

“Good.” Mirror-Homura looks away from you, glancing down at the other Sayaka and finally acknowledging her. She bends down, pressing their lips together...

And you're grinding back against her, your heart in your throat and your entire body trembling, and her lips are against yours. You catch just the briefest taste of her drink, sour and chemical, when her lips part for a moment, and feel the tickle of her fingers stroking over your soul gem on your stomach. Only after long seconds of this does she rest a hand on your back and and push you away from her. After a few steps, you stumble to a stop.

You're still standing in the street in front of her house, wearing your magical girl outfit.

Your magical girl outfit, which is now a darker, less-vibrant color bordering on violet. A quick glance down confirms that your soul gem is indeed shaped like a feather now. You brush your fingers over it, reassuring yourself that it's real, and you're interrupted by Homura's voice from behind you.

“What will you do now?”

“Eh?” You turn to face her—she's wearing that demon outfit, black dress and wings and all. It looks very... regal on her. The thought renews your blush, and you busy yourself with straightening your clothes as you consider the question. You hadn't even thought about plans for the rest of the day, you were so wrapped up in wanting to attack Homura. And for what? To ruin this paradise she's built for you? Stupid. “I'm going to ask Kyoko out,” you say, running a pair of fingers along one of your gloves and getting a feel for the altered outfit. This time, there's no embarrassment at the thought, only confidence. If she says no, you can find a way to make her say yes. “... is there anything you want me to do...?”

“Do whatever you want,” Homura says. “If any of the others seem like they're getting their memories back... bring them to me.”

She's given you so much, and she asks for so little. “Ehe. Can do!”

She smirks and reaches over to you, ruffling one gloved hand in your hair. “Good. Enjoy your second chance at being a human.” As her hand pulls back, you give it one trembling kiss, and then she's gone.


End file.
